Horses Never Lie Down
by Shadowed Night Sky
Summary: Post LWW - Horses only lie down when they are tired, hurt, or relaxed. Talking Horses only lie down before they die. Phillip lay down only when he knew Edmund was safe. *Movieverse*


_Disclaimer – I do not own the Chronicles of Narnia. It all belong to C. S. Lewis._

_AN: This is my first Chronicles of Narnia story, so I'm not sure how I did with the characters. But please read and review!_

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**Horses Never Lie Down**

**Summary: Horses only lie down when they are tired, hurt, or relaxed. Talking Horses only lie down before they die. Phillip lay down only when he knew Edmund was safe.**

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Horses rarely lie down. Only when they are hurt, or simply in a jolly relaxed mood do they suffer the indignity of looking like a strangely shaped dog curled up comfortably on the ground. And even then, no self-righteous Narnian Horse would be caught lying on the ground by someone they did not know extremely well.

So when Eridan caught sight of one of the talking horses lying down by the sea, he was beyond astonished. He was worried the Horse was hurt, and immediately wondered if he should go find a healer.

"Peace, Eridan," came a deep voice, just beside him.

The meek Faun let out a sound that suspiciously sounded like a squeak. He whirled around and came face to face with Oreius, the centaur general. Eridan often felt nervous around him. He could never shake off the feeling that Oreius could read his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered in an apologetic tone of voice. "I just thought he might be hurt."

"He is," replied the centaur, shifting slightly.

Eridan looked bewildered. "Then shouldn't we help him?" he asked cautiously, not sure of Oreius' reasoning.

"But aren't we all?"

The poor faun couldn't get any more confused. "Erm…what?"

Oreius sighed, as his gaze left the Horse, and turned to the stretching horizon that glowed brilliantly from across the waters. "We are all grieved that our rulers have vanished," he said finally, taking in a breath of the salty sea air. "And perhaps Phillip feels it more then the rest of us."

Eridan paused, his curious eyes returning to the horse. "Phillip?" he repeated, his already melancholy voice sounding even sadder at the mention of their missing rulers.

He knew who Phillip was. Phillip had been branded among the talking Horses as the most undignified Horse in all of Narnia. Several had reprimanded him for allowing a human to ride him when it was not a time of war. Talking horses only had riders in the midst of bloody battles. Rule #78 in the Talking Horses Rule Book. But to the rest of the Narnians, he was marked as the most loyal Horse in all of Narnia. The few random soldiers who had been there to see the incident would never forget the mortified look on Phillip's face when a ten-year-old not-yet-King Edmund had called him "horsie." But they would also never forget the deep devotion Phillip had for Edmund after this memorable meeting between boy and horse. After the embarrassment of being called horsie by one of the future rulers of Narnia, Phillip had fallen in love with the boy. And in the sixteen years that Edmund lived in Narnia, the Just King never found a more loyal servant, or a better friend.

But then it had happened. No one really knew any of the details. Not even the Horse himself, and he had been there to witness the event. The disappearance of the four rulers of Narnia.

The news of the White Stag had reached the ears of the very bored siblings. Always impetuous and eager, the reckless quartet had raced off on their horses, laughing all the while. Everyone in Cair Paravel could still recall the looks of amused indignation on Queen Susan's and Queen Lucy's faces when their oh-so-humble brother Edmund suggested they stay behind on the hunt and let him catch the White Stag by himself. Needless to say, Edmund had been rather dizzy from two very hard knocks on the head for nearly an hour before his vision finally cleared.

Oreius had trusted in his monarchs' abilities, and had sent no guards with them. They had gone off on their four horses, three very well-trained but dumb horses, and one very undignified talking horse. The horses had returned, but without their riders.

Shaking his head, Oreius turned from the sight of the blinding setting sun. "Let Phillip be, Eridan," he murmured. "Only Aslan knows how much time it will be before he is better. Only Aslan knows how much time it will be before all of us are better."

Eridan was left standing, staring at the Horse. He felt a strong resolution in his heart as he watched the faithful creature. _They'll come back one day_, he thought. _They have to. Especially King Edmund. They have to come back. Even if it is just to say good-bye._

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Phillip felt the wondering stares on his back, but he didn't care. He didn't care about anything right now, except for the fact that Edmund was gone. His rider, his king, his friend, his…his boy. He was gone.

The first time Phillip had laid eyes on Edmund, the one thing he expected to feel was disgust. He didn't. He just felt…disappointed. Disappointed that this young boy, this ten-year-old foal, had given into temptation and betrayed his family. At the same time, he felt proud that this future king had overcome his fears and doubts, and come back, asking for forgiveness, ready to face the punishment he rightly deserved. Phillip had felt respect for him as well, for returning to the camp to see Aslan, even after he had joined the Witch.

When he had been chosen as Edmund's steed in fencing practice for the two boys, Phillip wasn't sure whether he should feel revolted or honored. He chose to feel honored until the foal had humiliated him beyond words. "Whoa horsie! Whoa!" Had Edmund been on any other talking Horse, he would've found himself flat on his back with some very painful looking hooves heading directly for his face. Instead he had Phillip, who managed to gather up the remnants of his pride to say in a very insulted tone of voice, "My name is Phillip."

That's when he had made it his personal mission to make sure this pitiful excuse of a king did not make any more embarrassing mistakes which would most assuredly lead to a very agonizing death that no one would see fit for a king of Narnia. So he had started coaching him in the ways of Narnia, and slowly, without even realizing it, he had lost the remaining dignity he had by falling in love with the little foal.

Eventually, the boy grew up. The very same boy who used to come racing out of the castle to hide behind Phillip because he had accidentally ripped a page of an irreplaceable book, had turned into a true king of Narnia. King Edmund the Just, so rightfully named that Phillip couldn't imagine him being called anything else. The Horse would often tell the boy this when Edmund would start complaining that he was called 'Just' while Peter was 'Magnificent.' "When people say the Just and the Magnificent, I always feel like they're saying Peter is Magnificent, and I'm just so-so. Rather insulting, don't you say, Philly?" Too many people knew about Philly, the very annoying nickname Edmund had given to him. Though, as Phillip admitted to Tumnus at one point, it _was_ a much better nickname then horsie.

They had been through so many adventures and hardships together that Phillip thought nothing of joining his beloved king on a hunting trip. Phillip loved spending time with Edmund, and honestly, if they did catch the White Stag, his name would be put into the history books. Phillip, the Horse King Edmund was riding when he shot down the infamous white stag. The said horse had no second thoughts of joining the four royals.

But Phillip was older, and got tired so easily. Edmund was understanding, and had slowed down to take a break. Phillip felt grateful as Edmund tactfully ignored his sisters who were teasing him for stopping.

Phillip was still trying to catch his breath when Edmund dismounted. Instantly, his ears perked up, and he caught sight of a strange-looking thing standing directly in the middle of a clearing. All he heard was Queen Lucy whisper, "Spare 'Oom," and the siblings were off, running somewhere.

For some reason, Phillip felt panic clutch at his chest. Edmund had disappeared within seconds among the foliage of the forest. The shrubbery surrounding the claustrophobic horse did not help the situation and, urgently, Phillip let out a whinny. "King Edmund!" he called out, feeling more nervous than he had in years. His fear increased when no answer was made. Edmund always answered. "King Edmund!" he cried out, racing after where the royal four had vanished. All traces of them were gone. "King Edmund!" shouted Phillip once again. Heart-broken, he stared around him, trying desperately to find the boy he loved. But Edmund was gone. It seemed like he and his siblings had been erased from the world.

As Phillip followed the three horses back to Cair Paravel, the grief came at a swift pace. The horses had waited for hours, hoping desperately that the rulers would return. They didn't, and eventually, the other three horses had started off, accepting the fact that they were gone much better the Phillip did.

But as Phillip trotted down the familiar paths, he suddenly felt a small twinge of relief rush through him. He and Edmund had always had a bond. Phillip, no matter what Edmund did or said, could always tell how Edmund was feeling, physically and emotionally. And now, as Cair Paravel entered the old Horse's vision, he suddenly knew, without even understanding how he knew, that Edmund was safe. That his friend, his rider, his king, _his boy_, was home.

Phillip looked over the waters with a contented look in his eyes. He was lying down on the beach, in the same spot he used to join Edmund while the boy was in one of his brooding moods. Phillip felt happy, because his duty, the one he had entrusted to himself years ago, had been fulfilled. Phillip lay down his head, with his eyes closed. He could finally rest. After all, Edmund was safe.

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One thousand years had passed for Narnia, but only one year had gone by for the Pevensie children. They stood now in Cair Paravel, their old home.

Edmund's sharp eyes spotted something not for from the small campsite Peter had created. He kneeled down, brushing the dirt aside carefully. Not far from him, Lucy and Susan were bickering over an apple, and Peter was trying to break them up.

The eleven-year-old boy sucked in his breath as he saw the words engraved into stone. Tears fell from his eyes as he smiled gently. "Thank you, for everything," he whispered gently, brushing his finger against the stone. "Good-bye. I love you Philly."

_Here Lies_

_Phillip_

_The Most Loyal and True Talking Horse in All of Narnia_

_The Beloved Steed of King Edmund the Just_

"_Horses Never Lie Down"_

_Phillip Lay Down Only When His King Was No More_

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_I'm not certain if I've gotten all the facts right, since it's been awhile since I've read the books. I just watched the first Narnia movie again, so that's what I'm writing from.  
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_Please review!_


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